Page 63 of Texas Glory
Sitting at the head of the table in the dining room, Dallas heard their hushed laughter in the hallway. His gut clenched at the delightful sound she never made in his presence.
He forced himself to his feet when they entered the dining room, looking as guilty as two children who had sneaked away to go fishing before they’d finished their chores.
“Sorry we’re late,” Austin said as he pulled Cordelia’s chair out for her.
Smiling shyly at Austin, she sat. Austin took his place beside her and began to ladle stew into both their bowls. “We lost track of the time.”
“I figured that,” Dallas said as he took his seat. “I fed your damn prairie dog.”
Cordelia glanced up, then quickly lowered her gaze to her bowl of stew. “Thank you.”
“It was yapping so loud I couldn’t concentrate on my work,” Dallas said.
“I’m sorry. I’ll take her with us next time.”
With us next time.The words hung heavy in the air. Dallas’s stomach tightened. “How was your trip into town?”
Cordelia snapped her head up. She looked at Austin. Austin opened and closed his mouth.
“Fine,” Cordelia said. “Just fine.”
Dallas scraped his chair across the floor. As though consumed with guilt, Cordelia and Austin jerked back from the table.
“I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal,” Dallas said.
He wasn’t surprised that neither of them protested.
He walked to the corral, knowing himself to be a fool. He’d asked Amelia to marry him, then he’d sent Houston to fetch her, and she’d fallen in love with his brother.
He’d married Cordelia, and he’d told Austin to keep her company. What in the hell had he expected to happen?
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the watch Amelia had given him as a sign of her affection when she had first arrived at his ranch. He didn’t expect Cordelia to give him anything as a symbol of her affection, but he was certain she was going to leave him.
He considered arguing that too many years separated Cordelia from Austin, but he figured love didn’t put a lot of stock in the passage of years. Besides, he was several years older than Cordelia and his heart didn’t seem to notice.
He’d build them a house on a distant corner of his land because he didn’t think his pride could tolerate seeing the two of them together knowing at one time she was supposed to be his. Then he’d see about finding himself another wife. He could run an advertisement in the newspapers back East or maybe he could—
“Dallas?” Austin’s voice came from behind him. “Dallas, I need to talk to you.”
He jammed the watch back into his pocket and wrapped a wall of indifference around himself. Shoving the part of himself that could be hurt back into a dark hole, he turned to face his youngest brother.
“Figured you did,” he said as he crooked an elbow onto the railing of the corral.
Austin looked down and scuffed the toe of his boot into the dirt. “I don’t rightly know how to say it.”
“Just come straight out with it. That’s usually the best way.”
Austin nodded and met his brother’s gaze. “Dee asked me not to say anything to you, but I figured you ought to know.”
Dallas swallowed past the knot that had formed in his throat. “I appreciate that.”
Austin shoved his hands into his pockets. “Remember when you took me to that circus when I was seven?”
If Austin had hoped to lessen Dallas’s anger, he had succeeded. Christmas, 1867. The Haight and Chambers New Orleans Colossal Circus and Menagerie had pitched tents in San Antonio. Dallas and Houston were still recovering from the war, with little spare change clinking in their pockets, but they had wanted to give Austin a Christmas he wouldn’t soon forget. Dallas couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the fond memories. “Yeah, and you pestered me all day with questions. I threatened to pay that sword swallower to stick one of his swords down your throat just to shut you up.”
Austin chuckled and rubbed the side of his nose. “I thought you were serious.”
“The threat didn’t work, though, did it?”
